


With Honours

by bookwrm89



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-27
Updated: 2011-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwrm89/pseuds/bookwrm89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albion University student Arthur Pendragon is convinced he’s going to graduate with honours because of his dissertation paper.  When his paper gets held hostage by a homeless man, Arthur discovers that Gaius just might be the person to tutor the young man about life while Arthur’s flatmate, Merlin Emrys, may be the person to tutor him about love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Honours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LiveJournal challenge comm reel_merlin. Many thanks go to my wonderful betas faithharkness, alba17 and Brit-pick by choccy_grl. Any remaining mistakes are all me. This is my first attempt at writing in the Merlin fandom – comments and constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms.

**Prologue**

 _“It’s seven a.m., my lords and ladies, and you’re listening to Radio Free Camelot on a chilly November morning. You’re at the greatest university on Earth and you know what? You’re in over your head. You’re drowning. Especially you, Third Years. Only 150 days until your dissertations are due and the powers that be decide whether you’re destined for greatness or mediocrity._

 _“I know what you’re thinking - ‘do I really belong here?’ Probably not. But don’t give in, don’t give up; arise fair Albion, arise. You, too, can rule the world; you just have to crush everyone else first. A little crushing music, Maestro.”_

The two young men standing on the covered porch grinned at the words echoing tinnily through the earbuds on their iPods. They finished stretching and nodded to each other. As the first notes of The Cult’s _She Sells Sanctuary_ resounded through the speakers, the pair – one blonde, the other dark haired – took off jogging across the snow-covered campus of Albion University.

Their regular route took them down the row of student housing, past the dorms of residence and alongside the massive library, towards the river and the playing fields. Spying their housemate leading her rowing team on a morning run, the two men grinned boyishly at each other again and tore after the unsuspecting runners.

Catching up with the team on the stone bridge across river, the pair wove in and out amongst the rowers; knocking off hats and throwing off the pace of the rowing team.

“Ignore them,” the dark-haired woman yelled. “Come on, keep up the pace.”

The dark-haired man pulled the hood off of his sister’s hair and the pair left the rowers in chaos, laughter trailing in their wake and their roommate’s invectives following them shrilly across the snowy fields.

“That’s really fucking funny, you morons!”

 

 _“Now here’s something to crow about.” The call of a rooster echoed across the airwaves. “I’ve got a great cock, don’t I? Last night a fresher from Cardiff University swears she saw the ghost of Dylan Thomas in Monmouth Library. Wales’ greatest poet haunting the stacks of our illustrious library, eh?_

 _While the Cardiffuni fresher is undergoing an intense debriefing at the hands of the Literature department, they better hurry. The weather tells us to expect ten inches of the white shroud tonight. I am Sir Gwaine. Now you hear me, now you…”_

>

 **Chapter One**

“Your father called again this morning, Gwaine,” Arthur Pendragon told his housemate. “He definitely wants you to call him back.”

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “And what is happening with my esteemed patriarch this week?” he asked mockingly. “Is he divorcing step-mama number three perhaps?”

“You wish,” Arthur snorted. “He was mumbling something about you being overdrawn – again.”

“Ah, dear Papa, he firmly believes in the long family tradition of living to excess in all things except letting the next generation have their fun, too.” Gwaine stopped walking to switch the rooster cage he was carrying to his other hand and then had to rush to catch up with his oblivious housemate.

“What’s got you off with the fairies this morning, Prince Arthur?” The pseudo-title was usually good for a laugh and a playful shove but today the only response was a half-hearted grin. “Seriously, mate, what’s up with you? Did the fair Merlin – wait, today is the meeting with the Dragon, isn’t it?”

Arthur checked his watch. “Yes, I’m supposed to be in Kilgarrah’s office in, bugger, ten minutes.”

Watching the blonde sprint across the snow covered quad, Gwaine lifted the cage to eye level and looked at the shivering rooster huddled in the corner. “Take my advice, Cedric; never take life too seriously. James Dean had it right - Live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse.”

>

Arthur sat rigidly in the chair placed in front of Professor Kilgarrah’s desk trying not to look as nervous as he felt. There was a reason the professor was nicknamed the Dragon and it _wasn’t_ because he resembled Puff.

“First paragraph, Mr. Pendragon,” Kilgarrah requested, settling back into his chair, fingers steepled in front of his face.

Arthur cleared his throat and began, “Chapter One – “

“From memory?” the professor drawled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Arrogant, young Pendragon,” Professor Kilgarrah declared. “But then, arrogance can be a helpful trait to have in one with your destiny. Continue.”

As Arthur was taking a breath to begin, Kilgarrah interrupted again. “Stand up.”

“Stand up?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, go on,” Kilgarrah prompted. “Stand up. Makes you a better target that way.”

Feeling as he often did during meetings with his advisor – baffled, perplexed and just slightly afraid – Arthur rose to his feet and began to recite from his dissertation.

Trying to keep eye contact with his advisor, Arthur allowed a small frown to form when the professor turned his chair away and began rummaging in a small cabinet. Arthur felt his eyes widen in surprise when the older man turned back around and began using a nasal spray.

Arthur continued speaking without faltering and fell silent once he was through with the first paragraph.

“Well done, Mr. Pendragon,” Kilgarrah proclaimed. “Leave your chapter. If you proceed as you’ve begun, you are sure to finish with a First and graduate with honours. Your destiny will be bright indeed.”

“Thank you, Professor Kilgarrah,” Arthur replied, allowing a small smile to grace his features. He set his chapter down on the professor’s desk and exited the office, narrowly restraining himself from punching the air and shouting in victory.

>

“Merlin, do you think Elena is more a voluptuous cabernet sauvignon or a buttery chardonnay?” Gwaine asked, carrying two bottles of very expensive wine into the kitchen and sitting down at the table next to the tousled-haired young man.

“Elena? Elena, Elena – this is the blonde that works part-time down at the Tesco’s?” Merlin enquired, knowing full well it was.

“Why, yes, I do believe that is the same lovely lady. So, what do you think?” Gwaine asked again.

“Honestly? Strongbow,” was his considered reply, ducking quickly when Gwaine reached out to box his ears. Hopping nimbly off the chair, Merlin opened the refrigerator and grabbed a Coke.

“That’s not funny, Merlin,” Gwaine said.

Arthur walked through the door as their fourth house-mate, Merlin’s step-sister Morgana, came down the stairs and started dishing up from the pans on the stove.

“You know, I’d appreciate it if you and the ‘prince’ over there wouldn’t start your mornings by demoralising my crew,” Morgana complained.

“Oh, lighten up, Gana,” Merlin said, grabbing her full plate and sitting back down at the table. “Learning how to concentrate in the face of distractions is a good thing. You should be thanking us, really.”

“Face it, Morgana.” Arthur smirked as he stole the second plate of food she’d dished up. “You just aren’t a leader of men.”

“Piss off, Arthur,” Morgana replied, beginning to dish up yet another plate for herself.

Arthur laughed and rummaged in a drawer for cutlery.

“Well?” Gwaine asked. “How did it go today?”

“How did what go?” Arthur pretended ignorance.

“How did -? You prat, Arthur,” Merlin spluttered. “Your meeting with the Dragon today, what did he say?”

“Oh, that,” Arthur said, grinning at the identical glares on Merlin’s and Gwaine’s faces. Morgana looked completely uninterested. “Good. It was good. Kilgarrah said it was an excellent beginning.”

Gwaine stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good show, Prince Arthur. You’ll be on your way to Downing Street in no time.” He turned around and grabbed Morgana’s plate.

Arthur laughed and left the kitchen with his supper. He could barely hear Merlin asking him where he was going over Morgana’s raised voice and Gwaine’s laughter. Replying that he had more work to do on his dissertation, Arthur rushed up the stairs and into his room.

Setting his plate down on the immaculately organised desk he quickly shrugged off his overcoat and dumped it on his bed. Arthur settled into his desk chair, turned on his laptop and grabbed the plate of food to eat a few bites while the ancient computer whirred to life.

Thinking that he really needed to do a backup of his system and wishing he could afford a new laptop, he logged into his email. Among the normal notes from his mother, jokes forwarded from Gwaine and random advertisements, Arthur saw a message from Pendragon, Aredian, Bayard & Alenid. Wondering why anyone at his late father’s law firm would be emailing him - it’s not like he’d inherited anything when his estranged father died after all - he quickly opened the message and clicked on the attached letter without even looking at who it was from.

He was startled when the screen went blank and touched the mouse-pad to try and bring it back. Then random words and symbols started appearing all over the screen and Arthur realised what was happening. He frantically began to hit ESC, the power button, random keys, _anything_ to stop the virus from spreading further into his hard drive.

“No, no, no, no, no,” repeated in an endless litany from his mouth as nothing he did worked. The words gradually became louder until he was shouting them while banging his fists on his desk.

“Noooooooo!”

>

 

 **Chapter Two**

Arthur was lying on the floor trying to remember the relaxation breathing tips from that stupid yoga class Merlin had dragged him to last year. He wasn’t having much luck, though, because he’d spent most of the sessions ogling Merlin’s arse and admiring his friend’s flexibility. Not even the memory of Merlin in the Extended Puppy pose could distract him from the current situation.

Merlin and Gwaine were crowded in front of Arthur’s computer trying to find his files and Morgana was leaning against the bookcase inspecting her fingernails.

“The hard drive is completely fried, Arthur,” Merlin said looking up from the screen. “Where is your back-up disc?”

Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t have a back-up disc. I was going to do one after checking my email.”

“Are you insane?” Morgana asked. “What kind of idiot doesn’t back up his computer when working on his dissertation?”

“Okay, okay, yes, it was stupid,” Arthur shouted. He pressed his hands against his eyes. “C’mon think – okay, I’ve got forty-three pages of my dissertation printed out. I need to make a copy of that so I’ve got a back-up.”

He jumped to his feet and began rummaging in the desk drawer. “I’ll just run out and make a copy and then worry about the computer tomorrow.”

“You already have forty-three pages of your dissertation done?” Morgana gasped.

Merlin followed Arthur out of the room. “You don’t have to do this tonight, Arthur. Just wait until tomorrow and make a copy then.”

“No, I don’t want to risk anything happening to my only copy, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. “This is my whole life.”

“Fine, then I’m coming with you,” Merlin suited his actions to his words and grabbed his jacket that was hanging next to the door. “Arthur, wait up.”

They jogged silently along the deserted, snow-covered pavement, Arthur’s hand tightly clutching the packet of papers that was all that was left of his dissertation. Merlin kept darting worried looks at his friend, noting the tense set of his shoulders and lips pressed tightly together.

“Look, I know you’ve been working really hard on this, Arthur,” he began. “But it’s not your whole life. It’ll be okay.”

“I didn’t ask you to come with me, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur replied.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin continued to follow his best friend, chuckling when Arthur slipped and almost fell on the icy pavement. The tables were turned when Merlin hit another icy patch and ended up sprawled out on the snow.

Arthur jogged backwards, laughing and heaping good natured abuse on Merlin’s head. As Merlin struggled to his feet, Arthur turned forwards and continued to jog towards the Student Union building. He was still laughing at Merlin’s misfortune when he tripped over the leg of a bicycle stand that was hidden in the snow.

Falling with a sickening twist to his ankle, Arthur lost his grip on the envelope with his dissertation inside and it sailed through the air to slip through the grating into the boiler room under the library.

“Arthur, are you okay?” Merlin panted, laughing breathlessly at Arthur’s less than graceful fall.

Struggling to his feet, Arthur glared at his house-mate. “Fuck. I’ve got to get into Monmouth Library.” He took a step towards the front of the library and almost crumpled to the ground as pain shot up his leg from his ankle.

Merlin was at his side in a heartbeat, helping to support his injured friend. “Arthur, you need to get to the infirmary and get that ankle looked at by a doctor.”

“What I need to do, _Mer_ lin, is get inside the boiler room of the library and get my dissertation back,” Arthur said through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to melt into Merlin’s embrace and let himself be led wherever Merlin wanted him to go. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Fine, I’ll help you,” Merlin sighed. “Are you happy now? No, wait, I know, you’ll be happy when you get your dissertation back.”

“You know, you’re brighter than you look, Merlin,” Arthur laughed.

The duo struggled up the snow-covered steps to the impressive entrance of Monmouth Library. The library had been named after the twelfth century Welsh scholar, Geoffrey of Monmouth. It was rumoured that a part of the original manuscript of his _Historia Regum Britanniae_ was under lock and key in a secret vault somewhere in the library.

“Are you sure the front door is the best idea, Merlin?” Arthur asked, looking dubiously at the tightly closed entrance.

“Trust me, I can get in and get you inside with no one the wiser,” Merlin replied, his impish grin lighting his face.

Arthur shook his head and laughed. “Don’t tell me, you’re secretly a sorcerer that’s going to cast a spell making us invisible?”

“Despite my name, no magical powers, sorry,” Merlin replied, lightly shoving the other man. “Prat. You’ve known me for close to three years, you would’ve noticed if I had magical powers by now.”

“True, you are pretty useless at keeping a secret,” Arthur agreed, looking around nervously and missing the longing look his friend gave him. By the time he faced his companion again, Merlin’s back was turned to him and he was pounding on the front door of the library.

Arthur ducked into the shadows when the door opened and old Aulfric, the night porter, peered out.

“Mister Emrys? What are you doing here so late?” Aulfric’s quavering voice drifted into the night air.

“Hey, Aulfric, I think I left my wallet when I was studying here earlier,” Merlin answered, grinning hopefully. “I was hoping that I could look through the lost and found to see if anyone turned it in?”

Aulfric shook his head and chuckled, opening the door wider to admit Merlin. “Come on in then and we’ll see what we’ve got.”

As Merlin followed the older man through the door, he shot a smug grin at Arthur as if to say Told you so. Arthur rolled his eyes but grinned back in silent thanks. It was only a minute later that the door opened again and Merlin was ushering him quickly inside.

Moving as fast as his injured ankle would allow, Arthur made his way into the bowels of the library. Heading in the general direction of where he knew his dissertation dropped, he hoped he found it quickly and was able to get out of the building before Merlin’s diversion ran out and they both got caught.

Arthur reached the area where he thought his dissertation had dropped and began searching the floor; looking under pipes and equipment. The longer he went without seeing the packet he was looking for the lower his spirits sank.

Deciding that he’d mistaken where the envelope had fallen, Arthur hobbled down a short hallway to the next open space. Hearing movement in one of the side rooms, he peered through the open door, not sure if he was hallucinating or what.

A figure was sitting next to a furnace, flames dancing through the small door and drawing macabre shadows on the figure’s face. It wasn’t until the figure grunted and crumpled up a sheet of paper before throwing it into the flames before Arthur realized what he was seeing.

He burst through the door shouting as another precious page of his dissertation burnt to ash. “No, no, stop it! Please!”

The figure resolved into a small, unkempt man with white hair and glasses as he leapt to his feet and grabbed a length of pipe. Arthur stumbled back as the man swung the pipe wildly.

“Would you just calm down, please? I’m a student,” Arthur yelled. He pointed to the stack of papers the man was holding. “That’s mine. That’s all I want. It’s mine. It’s important.”

“Don’t you knock when you enter someone’s home?” the man asked, holding the papers away from Arthur. “If this is that important, why was it lying on the floor to begin with?”

Sighing, Arthur reached into his pocket. “How much do you want?”

“How much of what?”

“Money,” Arthur snapped. “How much money will it take? I have a cheque here.”

The grubby man snorted in contempt. “What good would a cheque made out to you do me? I can’t eat paper.”

“Fine, I’ll bring you something to eat. Do you have any food allergies I should be aware of?” Arthur asked, stress and pain coming out as sarcasm.

The man moved the hand holding Arthur’s dissertation closer to the fire threateningly.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bring you the food; just give me back my dissertation.” Arthur’s eyes never left the papers that comprised all of his hard work for the last three months.

“Oh, this is your dissertation is it?” the man asked, his eyes lighting in amusement. “What are you studying, young man?”

“History of Politics,” Arthur replied proudly.

“Politics, ey?” the man mused. “Well, then you should recognize this scenario. I have something you want and you have something I want. I’ll give you what you want, when you bring me what I want.”

“I already said I’d bring you food,” Arthur said. “Why can’t you just give my dissertation now?”

“How do I know if you’ll even follow through on your promise? You are studying to be a politician after all and they all make promises that they don’t follow through on after they get elected.”

“Fine, a meal for my dissertation,” Arthur agreed.

“One meal for one page,” the old man contradicted.

“There are forty-three pages right there!” Arthur gasped his eyes widening in shock.

The man raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the fire. “There are thirty-nine pages, now.”

“Good point,” Arthur mumbled. “One meal for one page. Do you need anything else?”

“Do you wear boxers or briefs?” the man asked. “I could use some clean pants and prefer briefs. Oh, and a doughnut, iced, without any little cracks in the icing.”

Arthur just looked at the man who suddenly held the key to the rest of his life in his hands and wondered if the man was an escaped mental patient. Sighing, he nodded his agreement. “All right, a meal, clean pants and a pristine iced doughnut.”

As he left the underground room, Arthur found himself wondering what he’d done in a past life to deserve the shit he was dealing with in this one.

 

 **Chapter Three**

“Let the quest begin, my liege,” Gwaine announced, pulling a magnifying glass from his back pocket and leaning over the open box of doughnuts in the centre of the table.

“This is pointless,” Arthur sighed. “I should just call campus security and have them get my dissertation away from him.”

“Arthur, you can’t do that, it’s the middle of winter and he’s obviously homeless,” Morgana exclaimed. “If you call security, they’ll drag him to jail. Even you can’t be that heartless.”

Arthur glared at her. “He’s the one that is heartless. You should’ve seen the look on his face. He was enjoying torturing me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t want you to fail, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, putting his hand on Arthur’s arm. “He was probably just glad to find a way to survive the winter without having to root through garbage bins for food. Maybe have a little bit of dignity.”

Arthur could feel himself relaxing infinitesimally. He attributed it to the pain medication the internist had given him at the infirmary. It had nothing to do with the feel of Merlin’s hand on his arm. Really. No matter how warm it felt.

Sensing Arthur’s capitulation, Gwaine pressed the advantage further. “You need to get some rest, my prince. Go to sleep and we’ll get a fresh batch of doughnuts in the morning.”

Realizing that they were right, Arthur struggled to his feet, using his crutches for leverage. He clumsily made his way to his room, cursing the crutches, email viruses, slippery ice and creepy old men in boiler rooms.

As he fell into an exhausted sleep, however, all he could think about was the comforting feel of Merlin’s hand resting lightly on his arm.

>

When Arthur awoke the next morning, he was in a foul mood. His ankle hurt. He’d had a nightmare that Kilgarrah had resigned as his advisor just a week before the date that his dissertation was due. And he was angry with himself for not having backed up his work to an external disc.

In a fit of petulance, he grabbed his mobile, punched in the number for campus security and told them about the homeless man living in the basement of Monmouth Library.

>

“It’s not here!” Arthur kicked at the pile of detritus that security had removed from the boiler room. He cursed as a wave of pain travelled up his leg when his sprained ankle protested the careless treatment.

A constable was escorting the old man to a car in handcuffs and Arthur hobbled after them. “What did you do with it? Officer, it’s not here, make him say what he did with my dissertation.”

“That’s all of his things from the basement, Sir,” the constable replied. “And it’s not on him. Sorry.”

Arthur glared at the man who seemed determined to ruin his academic career, grinding his teeth in fury when the old man glared back and yelled out the window at him.

“You should’ve brought me the doughnut, Prime Minister. Would have saved you quite a bit of extra work.”

The police vehicle drove away and with it went Arthur’s hopes of graduating with honours. He slumped dejectedly on his crutches and contemplated what he should do next.

“Arthur, was that him?” Merlin asked, running from the direction of his morning lecture. “Did he have your paper?”

“Yes, that was him, the evil goblin,” Arthur muttered eyeing the ridiculous hat Merlin had on his head. “And no, he didn’t have my paper. I wager he burnt it.”

“Don’t be such a prat, Arthur,” Merlin admonished. “He probably just put it somewhere else as insurance against this very thing happening. You said he didn’t trust you anyway and you just proved that he was right not to.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Arthur replied, heart sinking. “What was I thinking, Merlin? What should I do?”

Merlin eyed his friend thoughtfully. “If I were you, I’d find out where they are taking him and see if you can make it up to him. Beg if you have to.”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea,” Arthur said, taking his iPhone out and searching for the address to the local police station. “You know, you’re not as useless as you look, Merlin.”

“Arse.”

“Idiot.”

>

Arthur struggled down the courthouse steps and followed after the man he now knew as Gaius Wilson as fast as his crutches would allow. The old man ignored him and walked up to a woman standing outside a shop window.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Gaius said politely. “Could I borrow £1.50 to get myself a newspaper?”

The woman smiled and handed him the money. Arthur watched as Gaius, still ignoring Arthur, fed the money into the slot and opened the door of the newspaper dispenser. He reached in and grabbed the entire stack of newspapers out of the machine and allowed the door to swing closed.

Standing on the corner, Gaius began to shout the headlines.

“Wales defeats England. Rugby game has record turnout,” he yelled. “Read all about it here for just 50p.”

Amazed, Arthur watched as people stopped and actually bought the newspaper from the grubby man on the street corner.

“Mr. Wilson, I have a business prop –,“ Arthur began, cursing when his crutch slipped on some ice and he almost fell again. He righted himself and followed as the other man continued selling his dwindling supply of newspapers.

“Look, I paid your fines for you; I think that entitles me to a conversation,” Arthur said, planting himself in front Gaius and refusing to ignored. Taking a £2 coin out of his pocket, he thrust it in the man’s face. “Here, I’ll _buy_ the rest of the papers. Now would you just listen to me?”

Gaius threw the newspapers onto the ground and rounded on Arthur. “What do you see when you look at me?” He demanded. “What do you see?”

“I see a man,” Arthur replied, confused.

“No, you don’t,” Gaius said. “You see a piece of garbage, Prime Minister.”

Arthur interrupted him. “I see a man that needs a home.”

“I had a home,” Gaius bit out. “I had a home with seventeen bathrooms and miles of books to read. The reason I need a home is because of you, Prime Minister. Because when you looked at me, you didn’t see a man.”

“I’m sorry, all right? I was wrong,” Arthur shouted, stung by the truth in the man’s words and determined not to be the kind of person his father was. “I’m trying to apologize here, but you won’t let me. I have a place for you to stay, if you want it.”

Gaius studied Arthur’s face intently, looking for any deception. Finally he nodded.  
“All right then, Prime Minister,” he said. “Lead the way.”

>

Arthur opened the doors on the van in the backyard and looked at Gaius hopefully.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked. “It’s perfect, right?”

Gaius turned around and looked at the house behind them. “What’s that?”

“It’s a house,” Arthur replied.

“I prefer that,” Gaius stated flatly.

Arthur shook his head. He felt sorry for the guy but he still didn’t trust him enough to let him stay in the house.

“You can’t, it’s full,” he lied.

Gaius surveyed the stuff piled in the back of the van.

“That all belongs to my flat-mate, Lance,” Arthur hastened to explain. “He and his girlfriend, Gwen, dropped out of school a couple months ago to go save the rainforest or something and he left all that here.”

“So, where are they now?” Gaius asked.

“Bali,” Arthur replied.

“Bali? I’ve been there,” Gaius said, pushing some of the stuff out of the way. “I was in the Merchant Navy. See the wonders of the world from the bowels of a ship; just don’t breathe the air in the engine room. What about the basement?”

Arthur frowned and then realized what Gaius was asking. “Oh, no, sorry, the basement is flooded. So, what do you think?” he rushed on. “All the comforts of home, including meals for just the price of one dissertation.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. “For each night’s lodging, one page of your dissertation. Same with meals. Deal?”

“Deal!” Arthur smiled. “I’ll be right back with your supper for the evening.”

“Oh, and, Prime Minister?” Gaius called. “Get me something decent to read, too. I _was_ reading _Father’s and Sons_ by Turgenev before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Arthur grinned and replied, “You’ll have it tomorrow.”

>

 **Chapter Four**

“I can’t believe you’re making him stay out there in the van,” Morgana criticised. “It’s supposed to be below zero tonight, he’ll freeze.”

“He’s got plenty of blankets, Morgana, he’ll be fine,” Arthur dismissed her concerns even though his own conscience was niggling at him.

Gwaine entered the room and flopped down on Arthur’s bed. “It’s not like he’s not used to it, Morgana. He’s a bum; they’re used to sleeping outside and being dirty and scrounging for food.”

“Gwaine, you’re really not helping,” Arthur replied, throwing his pillow at the man. “Besides, how can you even have an opinion one way or the other? You keep a rooster in the house.”

“I’ll have you know that my cock is much cleaner than your bum,” Gwaine said, breaking down laughing when he caught the disgusted look on Morgana’s face.

Merlin poked his head around the door. “Oh, are we comparing cocks and bums?”

“Ugh, you three are revolting,” Morgana huffed, pushing past her brother on her way to her room.

“Hey, Gana,” Merlin called after her. “Did you steal my razor to shave your legs again? I’ve got a date in half an hour and need to use it.”

“Sorry, Merlin, it broke,” Morgana replied. “Leon is just going to have to put up with whisker burn tonight. It’s not like he’s clean-shaven, you know.”

Arthur leant against his door frame and watched Merlin pout at Morgana’s closed door. Merlin had just gotten out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around his waist. A single drop of water was inching its way down his neck and onto his shoulder-blade. Gwaine’s voice next to his ear pulled Arthur’s attention away from his perusal of Merlin’s skin.

“Use mine, Merlin,” Gwaine offered, clapping his hand against Arthur’s back. “It’s on my dresser next to the fish-bowl of condoms.”

“Thanks, mate,” Merlin replied, grinning. “Can I borrow some of those, too?”

“Ugh, no. You can use some, but I really don’t want them back when you’re done with them,” Gwaine replied, watching Arthur closely.

Merlin disappeared back into the bathroom with his prizes and shut the door.

“You all right, your highness?” Gwaine asked Arthur seriously.

Arthur looked away from the door Merlin had disappeared behind and muttered, “I’ve never wanted to be a towel so much in my life.”

Gwaine followed him back into his room and threw himself back down on Arthur’s bed.

“Arthur, you need to tell him how you feel,” he encouraged. “You know he’s only with Leon as a ‘friends with benefits’ thing. It’s not serious.”

“No, Gwaine, I’m not going to tell him,” Arthur snapped. “He’s my best friend and I’m not going to fuck that up just to find out what I already know. That he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Gwaine opened his mouth to argue but Arthur put up a hand to keep him quiet.

“No,” he said. “Now get out of here and leave me alone. I have a paper due tomorrow that I have to write by hand.”

Grumbling Gwaine got up off the bed and started to leave the room. He got to the door and turned back.

“Fine, I’ll shut up about Merlin for now,” he said. “But mark my words, you’re going to regret not going for it when you had the chance. You’ve been in love with him since first year, Pendragon.”

Arthur just pointed to the door, not bothering to try to lie and deny that his friend was telling the truth.

>

The sound of a door closing quietly across the hall distracted Arthur from his writing and he looked at his clock. One o’clock in the morning and Merlin was just getting home. He stood up from his desk and stretched, walking to the window. Maybe Gwaine was right and he should say something to Merlin.

His thoughts were distracted when his gaze landed on the van in the back-yard. Snow was falling again and Arthur rubbed his arms as a chill spread over his body. He glimpsed his thick Albion Uni blanket lying across the foot of his bed and then looked back out at the van.

Making a decision, he grabbed the blanket and made his way awkwardly down the stairs with just one crutch. He was shivering by the time he got to the van and opened the door.

Gaius was curled under a couple of thin blankets, his hat pulled low over his head and a wool scarf pulled up around his neck. Arthur quickly draped the thick blanket over the huddled form and stepped back, hoping against hope that he hadn’t woken the homeless man up. His hopes were dashed when Gaius’ voice floated across the frosty night air.

“I’ll give you a whole chapter if I could just sleep on the sofa tonight.”

Arthur wanted to say yes, he really did. It’s not like the rest of the house-mates would mind but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he muttered, refusing to look the old man in the eyes. “The blanket, it’s not part of our deal, just, I wanted you to have it.”

“That’s not the way it works, Prime Minister,” Gaius insisted. “Something for something, that’s the deal. You’ll have your pages tomorrow, plus five extra for the blanket. Now shut the damn door, you’re letting all the heat out.”

Sighing in resignation Arthur hopped back and closed the door of the van. He made his way slowly across the yard and up the back steps, turning to look back at the man settling himself back to sleep in the vehicle. Resisting the urge to go back and tell Gaius that he could sleep inside, Arthur opened the door and entered the house.

He leant against the closed entry and thumped his head against the glass. A noise drew his attention across the room and he felt himself flush with shame at the look of disappointment on Merlin’s face.

Feeling stubborn, Arthur straightened up and tilted his chin arrogantly; daring Merlin to say anything. Merlin didn’t give him the satisfaction though, just shaking his head sadly and turning to go back up the stairs to his room, bottle of water clutched tightly in his hand.

Arthur hung his head and followed slowly. Closing the door to his room, he stripped off his clothes and settled onto his mattress. It was a long time before he drifted off to sleep.

>

The next morning he hobbled painfully out to the van, a bowl of porridge carried in the hand not wielding his crutch. He opened the door of the vehicle, surprised to find it empty except for seven pieces of paper placed squarely in the middle of the bed.

Arthur leant his crutch against the car door and reached for the paper on top. There was a note written on the back in a crabbed handwriting that he didn’t recognize.

 _You lied to me again, Prime Minister,_ the note said. _All deals are off._

“Fuck!” Arthur threw the bowl of porridge at a small tree and took great satisfaction in listening to the pottery shatter and drop to the ground.

>

 

 **Chapter Five**

Arthur sat on Merlin’s bed and watched as his friend packed his suitcase for the Christmas holidays.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us, Arthur?” Merlin questioned, closing the case and latching it shut.

Morgana poked her head in the door and smirked at the blonde. “Yeah, we could always use another footman around the place.”

Merlin threw a pair of dirty socks at his sister and told her to shut up. When she went away laughing, Merlin turned back to the figure sprawled across his bed.

“Come on, Arthur, come with us,” he urged. “I can’t stand to think of you spending Christmas here all by yourself. It’ll be fun. There’s all sorts of stuff to do in London over the Hols.”

“No, I’ve got some work to do for school,” Arthur replied, eyes settling on Merlin’s backside when the man turned away to pack up his laptop. “Besides, won’t you be spending most of your time with Leon?”

Merlin laughed gaily. “Oh no, Leon won’t be there. He’s going skiing with his family in Switzerland. Besides, it’s not like that between us and I never bring sex home to meet the parents.”

Arthur sighed and pushed up from the bed. “Thanks for the invite, Merlin, but I can’t. Mum said that she might be able to come out and see me for Christmas and I want to be here if she can.”

Igraine Pendragon had doted on her only son from the moment he was born. Life had been a struggle for the two of them after her husband, Uther, had left her for another woman, but Igraine had refused to let that break her.

Uther had had nothing to do with his son other than an occasional card for his birthday and a gift or two at Christmas. His lawyers had managed to find a way for him to keep from paying anything more than minimal child maintenance, so when Uther dropped dead of a heart attack when Arthur was nineteen he wasn’t missed at all by his abandoned son.

Igraine worked as a nurse at the Parkwood Hospital in Blackpool, so it wasn’t often that they got to see each other during the school year. Arthur’s scholarship to Albion University in Cardiff didn’t cover much beyond tuition and books. Travelling wasn’t really in the cards for either of them as any extra funds went for necessities like clothing and food.

Arthur enjoyed the solitude of having the house to himself for the first couple of days. The peace and quiet remained unbroken, except for Cedric the rooster. Christmas day was spent alone, trying to work on his dissertation and eating leftover Chinese from the night before.

He’d spoken to his mother briefly in the afternoon between her shifts at the hospital. She’d called a couple days before Christmas to say that she’d been offered extra shifts over the holidays and Arthur had said he understood. He did, too. He knew it was a strain on his mother having him go to school so far away. The extra money would be helpful for her to make the journey down to see him graduate in the early summer.

Two days after Christmas, a knock sounded on the back door. Arthur limped through the kitchen, the doctor having told him he could give up the crutches on his last visit. Spying a figure hunched into an Albion University blanket, he quickly pulled the door open.

“Gaius,” he exclaimed, only to be disappointed when the figure turned to reveal an older black man wrapped up in the blanket.

“Sorry, my name is Tom,” the man explained. “Are you the Prime Minister? Gaius wanted me to give this to the Prime Minister.”

Arthur nodded and the man thrust a tattered envelope stuffed with papers at Arthur’s chest. Arthur accepted them numbly, shocked at how disappointed he was that Gaius hadn’t come back give him the bundle himself.

“Gaius said that you’d give me a sandwich,” the man, Tom, said when Arthur’s attention turned back to him. “He said to make sure that it had lots of lettuce and tomatoes and cucumbers on it, too. He said I need my vitamins.”

Arthur chuckled and opened the door to let Tom into the kitchen.

“Of course, just have a seat at the table and I’ll make that sandwich for you right away.” Determined not to make the same mistakes and assumptions that he had with Gaius, Arthur suited his actions to his words and soon placed a thick sandwich in front of Tom. “Can I get you anything else? Some hot tea maybe?”

“Thank you, yes,” Tom replied, wolfing down the sandwich.

Arthur set the cup of tea down on the table and sat in the chair across from Tom.

“Why didn’t Gaius come himself?” He found himself asking. “Is he okay? Where is he?”

“He’s fine,” Tom replied. “He said to tell that, if you asked, he was at the Saint Mary’s shelter on North Church Street.”

“Is that a good shelter?” Arthur asked quietly.

Tom looked up from his meal and smiled mockingly. “Oh yes, it’s one of the best in the town.”

Arthur looked down at his hands clenched on the table and blushed. Truthfully, he knew nothing of what a homeless shelter was like and wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t offend the man in front of him.

Tom finished his meal and pushed back from the table. “Thank you for the tea and the sandwich, but I’ve got to get going now.”

He was out the door and across the yard before Arthur was able to get up from the table. When he saw the man had disappeared so quickly, Arthur sank back down and pulled his dissertation towards him. Dumping it onto the table, he straightened the wrinkled pages out. Wondering why he wasn’t more excited to have the papers back in his possession.

Arthur squinted at the familiar handwriting on the back of the last page.

 _Our discreditable secret is that we don't know anything at all, and our horrid inner secret is that we don't care that we don't._

Laughing at Gaius using Dylan Thomas to insult his work, he began to reread what he’d written so far of his dissertation. Picking up a pen Arthur started marking out sections of his work and making notes in the margins.

He didn’t look up until it was dark outside and he was having trouble reading his own writing due to the dimness in the room. Realising that he’d filled an entire pad of paper with notes, he stood up and stretched, his stomach rumbling in hunger.

Making himself a sandwich, Arthur wondered what the Saint Mary’s shelter was serving for supper. Finding that he was missing the gruff old man and feeling guilty that he hadn’t tried to find him before now; Arthur decided to go to the shelter and convince Gaius to come back to the house. He ate quickly before calling for a cab and throwing his heavy coat across his shoulders.

Exiting the vehicle in front of the Saint Mary’s the Virgin church on North Church Street; he looked around for a sign pointing to the entrance of the shelter. Not seeing anything, he stepped up to the door and began knocking.

A priest opened the door and looked out. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m looking for the homeless shelter,” Arthur answered. “Is it around back?”

“Homeless shelter? There is no homeless shelter here,” the priest replied.

Arthur frowned in confusion. “But, he said he was staying at the Saint Mary’s shelter on North Church Street. Is there another Saint Mary’s then?”

“Ah, I think I know what your friend was talking about,” the priest said, sighing. “Go across Bute Street to the trees along the railway tracks. It’s the closest thing to a homeless shelter around here.”

Arthur turned away and walked in the direction the priest had indicated. Why would Gaius have told him he was at a shelter if he wasn’t? It didn’t make sense. Entering the copse of trees, though, Arthur began to wonder if the lie hadn’t been a request for help.

There were people lying on the snowy ground covered in cardboard and old newspaper, anything they could find to insulate them against the cold. The desolation and hopelessness of the scene was reflected in the eyes of those around him and Arthur felt sick to his stomach that people were just forgotten like this.

He began searching the area for Gaius, calling out his name and asking people where he was. Finally a woman pointed towards a large corrugated shipping container. As Arthur walked towards it he could hear a horrible coughing coming from inside. He rushed over and peered into the dark interior to see Gaius, arms wrapped around his body in an attempt to stay warm and bent almost double with coughing.

Arthur reached in and gathered the struggling man to his chest, supporting him through the fit of coughing until Gaius could catch his breath.

“Gaius, you should be in hospital,” Arthur murmured. “I’m going to take you to A&E, yeah?”

Gaius protested immediately. “No, no hospital,” he wheezed, still trying to catch his breath. “Promise me.”

“Gaius, you’re sick,” Arthur began, only to be cut off by Gaius grabbing his coat.

“No, no hospitals. You have to promise me and no lies this time,” he insisted between coughs. “Promise, no matter what happens, no hospital. I don’t want to die surrounded by strangers in a ward full of terminally ill people.”

“Fine, okay, I promise, all right?” Arthur replied helping Gaius to his feet. “Just, come on, let’s get away from here, okay? Let’s go home.”

>

Gaius was awake when Arthur checked on him the third time the next morning. He’d been bringing a tray with water and juice in and set it on the desk next to the small bed.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” he said. “I brought you something to drink. Are you hungry yet? I could make you some toast or something.”

The old man was looking around the airy room with something like wonder. “Is this your room, Prime Minister?”

Arthur looked around at the abandoned books and notes scattered across the room. “No, this was my flat-mate, Lance’s room.”

“Ah, the one that went to Bali with his girlfriend,” Gaius remembered.

“Yep,” Arthur replied. “Anyway, it’s yours now, if you want it.”

Gaius looked shocked and then suspicious. “Why? You’ve got your dissertation back, so what’s our deal going to be?”

Arthur shook his head. “No deal. You need a place to stay and there’s room here. Other than the fact that you’re going to see a doctor this afternoon, there is no need for a deal.”

“I said no hospitals,” Gaius insisted.

“It’s not a hospital,” Arthur hastened to say. “Just a visit to the doctor to see if anything can be done for that cough, all right?”

“There’s no point, Prime Minister,” Gaius sighed. “There’s nothing they can do for it, ever.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Gaius picked at the blanket covering his legs. “It’s a disease called Mesothelioma and there is no cure. I’m going to die, Arthur, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening.”

The room was silent while Arthur digested what he’d just been told. He wasn’t sure what to say, or even if there was anything to say in this situation, so he just sat there.

“How -?” Arthur’s voice trailed off, not sure how to ask the question he wanted.

“How did I contract it?” Gaius surmised knowingly. He continued at Arthur’s nod. “Asbestos - breathing it in while I was in the Merchant Navy. It was in the shipyards and the engine rooms of the ships. Now it’s killing me.”

Arthur wanted to say he was sorry but knew it was an idiotic thing to say to someone who had just admitted that they were dying and nothing could be done. He remained quiet until Gaius broke the silence.

“Did you say something about toast earlier?”

“Of course, yes.” Arthur leapt off of the bed like it was on fire, glad to have something to direct his attention to other than their conversation. “I could cook you some eggs, too?”

“That sounds good,” Gaius replied. “Thank you.”

Arthur had almost made it to the door before Gaius’ voice stopped him.

“We need to have a deal, Arthur. I need to pay my own way.”

“How are you going to do that if you can’t work?” Arthur asked.

Gaius smiled. “I think you’re forgetting something about the government, kid. I’m entitled to disability benefits. I think it’s time I made up with Her Majesty the Queen, don’t you?”

>

Arthur was engrossed in rewriting his dissertation for the next four days, only taking short breaks to check on Gaius and grab something to snack on while he was working. The smell of something cooking had permeated the house and drawn him from his room and down the stairs; reminding him that the rest of his body needed nourishment as well as his mind.

He entered the dining room to see the table laid with plates and cutlery, a roasted chicken taking pride of place amongst the various dishes set out for consumption. Gaius came through from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“What’s all this?” Arthur asked, indicating the meal.

Gaius encouraged him to sit down and began pouring the wine. “You’ve been working so hard, I thought you deserved a decent meal before you passed out from hunger up there.”

Arthur helped himself to the food and began to eat. “Thank you,” he said, swallowing a bite of chicken. “I didn’t think you were feeling well enough to go shopping yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t go out,” Gaius said airily. “I just cooked what was available here.”

Frowning, Arthur thought about the contents of the kitchen. “I didn’t think we had any chicken to be cooked.”

Gaius took a sip of wine. “It’s not that hard, really.” He frowned. “It’s the plucking that takes awhile, but after that it’s easy.”

“Plucking - ? Oh my god,” Arthur choked, standing up and stumbling away from the table. He looked around wildly. “Cedric? Gwaine is going to kill me!”

>

 

 **Chapter Six**

Other than the initial hiccup with Gwaine’s rooster, having Gaius living in the house for the last three and a half months was working out remarkably well. He talked philosophy with Morgana, art with Merlin and frequently joined Gwaine on his pirate-radio show as the ‘Ghost of Dylan Thomas’ to talk about literature.

Arthur was fascinated listening to the man’s insights on everything from politics to pop culture and wondered if this is what it would’ve been like to grow up with a father. The one area of Arthur’s life that Gaius didn’t infiltrate himself into were his lectures – particularly those with Professor Kilgarrah.

Gaius had accompanied him to a lecture once and it had been a disaster, mainly for Professor Kilgarrah. Bested by Gaius in a debate over the power of the American President, the ‘Dragon’ had retreated into haughty disdain and flamed Gaius in front of the entire lecture hall. Gaius had gotten the last word in, however, even if that word had been ‘arsehole’.

They also didn’t talk about the time that Arthur had walked into Gaius’ room to find him making notes for his own obituary. He’d asked Arthur to read what he’d written so far and Arthur had been shocked to find out that Gaius had had a wife and young son that he’d abandoned to travel the world. Stunned to find out that Gaius had abandoned his son the way Uther had abandoned Arthur, the two had gotten into a huge argument and hadn’t spoken to each other for several days afterwards.

Arthur’s attention was brought back to the present by Gwaine rushing in waving several envelopes excitedly.

“My lords, and lady, guess what I have managed to procure for us today?” he announced grandly. “I have, in my gorgeous yet talented hands, three invitations to Avalon. Here is one for you, Prince Arthur and one for you, oh great sorcerer.” He bowed mockingly, handing an envelope to Merlin.

“What about mine?” Morgana demanded.

“I could only inveigle three out of them this year, Lady Morgana,” Gwaine said, shrugging. He leered at her playfully. “I’d be happy to squire you to the party, but you know how the night must end.”

Merlin threw a cushion at his promiscuous friend. “Stop trying to have it on with my sister, Gwaine. She’s much too classy for the likes of you,” Merlin teased. “I’ll take you, Gana. Leon can fend for himself.”

“What about you, my prince?” Gwaine turned to Arthur, smirking knowingly. “Which of your many admirers will you be escorting to the party this year?”

Arthur grinned and threw another cushion at Gwaine’s head. “Actually, I was thinking that I’d take Gaius with me. Think you’d enjoy it, Gaius?”

“Well, I’m not sure, I don’t have a thing to wear to a party,” Gaius laughed. “Will there be wine?”

“Wine, lager, spirits, you name it, it’ll be there,” Gwaine declared. “Plus music, beautiful women and lots of dark corners for doing dirty deeds.”

Morgana and Merlin both laughed and looked at Gaius. “Don’t worry about what to wear either,” Merlin said. “Avalon is a pyjama party and I’m sure Morgana has something that you could wear.”

Gaius looked startled. “Morgana? Why would I wear something of Morgana’s to the party?”

“Because it’s a cross-dressing pyjama party, silly,” Morgana said lightly with a calculating look on her face. “And I have the perfect thing for you to wear.”

>

The party was in full swing when Arthur and Gaius arrived. The bow on Arthur’s red silk top and tap pants set had torn and Gaius had done some quick work with a needle to repair it. By the time they’d left the house, the others had already gone to the party ahead of them.

Arthur was intensely curious as to what Merlin was wearing. He’d been very secretive about it ever since he and Morgana had come back from their shopping expedition. Arthur was wearing what he’d worn the last two years, seeing no reason to waste money on something he had no intention of wearing ever again once he graduated.

The red silk outfit looked good on him, though. The lightly draped material accentuated his powerful thighs and the camisole top with the tie in back of his neck set off his wide shoulders and tapered waist.

For once, Morgana had been circumspect when it came to dressing Gaius. She’d adorned him in a high-neck flannel nightgown with full sleeves and a ruffled hem that just touched the floor. She’d also insisted that he wear a warm wrapper over the top, to make sure that he didn’t get chilled.

Gwaine had been parading around the house in his outfit all week; lounging on the sofa with his legs sprawled out and drinking wine until Morgana had threatened to put peroxide in his shampoo bottle if he didn’t stop it. The black lace, peek-a-boo teddy left _nothing_ to the imagination; which was just the way Gwaine wanted it.

When Arthur finally caught sight of Merlin on the dance floor with Leon, he sincerely wished that he was wearing something a little more substantial than red silk shorts. Merlin was a vision in midnight blue satin and lace and Arthur couldn’t stop staring at him.

The shimmery satin clung to Merlin’s skin and flirted with the tops of his thighs and the knee-length lace jacket provided tantalising glimpses of alabaster skin. His long legs appeared even longer encased in sheer black stockings that came partway up his thighs and the strappy high heels made his ankles look delicate and his legs even shapelier.

Arthur was struck dumb at the sight and quickly gulped his champagne to quench the sudden dryness of his mouth. Gaius chuckled at the look on Arthur’s face and grabbed another drink from a passing waiter.

“You shouldn’t be standing here with me,” the older man said, handing Arthur the drink. “You should be out there with him.”

Arthur looked startled and then laughed quietly. “You never cease to amaze me, Gaius, but no.”

“Why not?” Gaius demanded. “You’re in love with him.”

Arthur contemplated the glass in his hand before looking back out at Merlin. “So what?”

“So, you should tell him,” Gaius encouraged. “Love is – Arthur, love is everything.”

“He sees me as his friend, Gaius, not a lover,” Arthur argued. “I’m not going to jeopardise our friendship.”

“Prove him wrong, then,” Gaius insisted. _“To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts, to feed the remainder of life with one hour of fullness and freedom - one brief hour of madness and joy.”_

Arthur watched in amazement as a willowy brunette turned around and put her hand on Gaius’ arm.

“Would you like to dance?” she asked.

“Uh, Gaius, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Arthur began, worried that the activity would be too much on his weakened lungs.

Gaius took the young woman’s hand and kissed it. Turning to Arthur he winked and said, “Let’s not go overboard with this staying alive business, yeah?”

Arthur shook his head as the couple moved towards the dance floor and then he was again distracted by the slender, dark-haired man in blue. He watched as Merlin and Leon stopped dancing, arguing for a bit before Merlin stalked off on his own.

Wondering where Merlin was going, Arthur headed in the direction he’d seen the other man go. Leon had obviously followed Merlin as well. They were continuing their argument in the courtyard. Arthur crept closer, having no compunction about eaves-dropping on their discussion.

“ –but I still don’t understand why Arthur has to bring him everywhere,” Leon was saying. “He’s creepy and probably has all kinds of diseases. I’m surprised he’s even allowed to stay around the campus.”

“There is nothing wrong with Gaius, Leon,” Merlin insisted. “He’s a person, just like you and I. He just hasn’t had the same privileges the rest of us had. If you got to know him, you’d see that.”

“Why does Pendragon have to bring him everywhere, though?” Leon insisted. “It’s weird.”

“Arthur is a wonderful person who is just trying to do something nice for someone,” Merlin said angrily. “What the hell is weird about that? You have no idea what you’re talking about, Leon, so just drop it.”

Arthur held his breath waiting to see what would happen next. Leon crossed his arms across his lavender-clad chest and studied Merlin.

“So that’s the way it is, is it?” Leon smirked. “I’ve always suspected there was something going on between the two of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin demanded. “There is nothing going on between Arthur and me. I’m with you.”

“We’re nothing more than friends with benefits and you know it, Merlin,” Leon scoffed. “Fuck-buddies, if you will. I’ve known for a long time that if Pendragon gave the slightest gesture you’d go running to him. You were never serious about me.”

“Leon, I –,” Merlin stopped speaking, not able to deny that Leon was telling the truth. “I’m sorry. I never meant it to end like this.”

“Its okay, Merlin,” Leon said reaching out to trail his finger down Merlin’s cheek. “I knew I’d never be able to keep you. We both deserve more out of life. Friends?”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” Merlin smiled at his former lover.

“Just be happy, Merlin.” Leon turned, his baby-doll nightgown swinging around his hips, and walked back into the party.

Arthur barely had time to duck back into the shadows before the man swept by him, heading straight to the bar. Creeping back out to see what Merlin was doing, Arthur caught his breath at the vision presented to him.

The moon had come out from behind some clouds and had washed the courtyard in pearly luminescence. Merlin was sitting on the edge of the fountain, trailing his hand in the water. Moonlight shone on the quiet figure, causing his clothes to appear black and his skin to gleam as if lit from within.

Arthur thought about what Gaius had said and what he’d overheard from Merlin and Leon. Without conscious thought, he strode into the courtyard. Merlin stood up but Arthur didn’t stop, just reached out and pulled the man towards him.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked breathlessly.

“I’m ending our friendship,” Arthur replied before covering Merlin’s parted lips with his own.

>

 **Chapter Seven**

 

Not sure what had woken him up, Arthur relaxed back into his pillow, stretching lazily in preparation for sleeping a bit longer. His eyes popped open again when his foot brushed against warm, bare flesh. Catching a glimpse of rumpled dark hair on the pillow next to him, Arthur remembered the events of the night before and exactly how it was that Merlin had ended up naked in his bed.

Knowing that he was sporting what was likely a truly besotted grin on his face, Arthur turned and pressed his body snugly against Merlin’s; burying his nose in the crook where Merlin’s neck met his shoulder and relishing the way Merlin’s whole body seemed to melt into his own. Arthur pressed a soft kiss into the side of Merlin’s neck and felt his eyelids sliding closed, only to pop right back open at the sound of a crash outside the door.

Both he and Merlin scrambled out of the bed, cursing and almost tripping over the bedding in their haste to get to the door. Arthur tossed his bathrobe at Merlin and hopped on one foot then the other yanking a pair of jog bottoms onto his legs. Throwing the door open, Arthur barely registered Gwaine and Morgana’s doors opening; his attention was focussed on the figure gasping for air at the bottom of the staircase.

“Gaius,” Arthur shouted, rushing to the older man’s side. “Gaius, you need to go to a hospital, please let me take you to A&E.”

Gaius was shaking his head before Arthur was finished speaking. “No hospitals, Prime Minister,” he gasped out, “you promised.”

“But,” Morgana began.

Arthur cut her off. “No, I promised him.”

The doctor Arthur had taken Gaius to see just after Christmas had told him there was nothing that could be done to cure Gaius’ disease. Knowing that Gaius hated the thought of dying surrounded by strangers, Arthur was determined to follow Gaius’ wishes and keep this promise.

He stroked sweat-soaked hair off Gaius’ forehead and ignored his blurring vision. He turned to look at Merlin, knowing that his lover would be able to read his plea for help in his eyes.

“Gana, just leave it,” Merlin said quietly but firmly, moving to Gaius’ other side and nodding at Arthur. “Let’s get him to your room, Arthur, it’s closest.”

Bracing Gaius on either side, Merlin and Arthur helped the older man into Arthur’s room and got him settled into the recently vacated bed. Arthur propped some pillows behind Gaius’ head in the hopes of easing his laboured breathing.

Gaius’ hand grasped Arthur’s hand weakly. “Arthur, I don’t have much time left and I need to do something.”

“You need to rest, Gaius,” Arthur whispered, grateful for Merlin’s comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave things the way your father did,” Gaius pleaded. “I don’t want to die without telling my son that I’m sorry and that I love him, I always loved him. I need to see my son, Arthur, please.”

Arthur’s throat was too choked up to reply but he nodded his head jerkily and continued to stroke Gaius’ hand until the older man’s breathing eased and he fell asleep. He turned to the figure standing silently next to him and buried his face into the cloth covering Merlin’s waist.

Once he felt in control of his emotions, he raised his head and took a deep breath looking around at the worried faces of his friends.

“Right, we need to find out where his son lives,” Arthur said. “Any ideas on how we do that?”

“Um, I might be able to help with that.”

Both Arthur and Merlin looked towards the doorway at the sound of Leon’s voice. Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Merlin’s ex-boyfriend wearing the spread from Morgana’s bed like a toga.

“Leon, what?” Arthur began, glancing at Merlin. He was surprised to see his lover gazing at his sister with a knowing smirk on his lips.

“My dad owns the largest security firm in Cardiff,” Leon continued, flushing a bit at the looks on their faces. “I just need parent names and the place and date of birth. We can get a current location in just a few hours, a day at the most.”

Seeing Arthur’s protective hackles starting to rise, Merlin quickly ushered the others out of the room, thanking Leon and telling him they’d get the information as soon as Gaius woke up. He also asked Gwaine to bring them some breakfast and then shut the door quietly.

Padding back to the bed, he sat down behind Arthur and slipped his arms around his lover’s bare waist, resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder.

“She’s been jealous of me forever,” Merlin murmured. “Gana’s had a crush on Leon since we were in secondary school. I thought she’d gotten over it but I guess I was wrong. I wish she’d told me. It was never serious with Leon and I would’ve broken off with him a long time ago if I knew she still had feelings for him.”

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s with her this soon after you?” Arthur asked, watching Gaius’ breathing but listening for the answer intently.

“No,” Merlin replied simply. “We’re all where we need to be now.”

Arthur thought about Merlin’s easy acceptance of the situation and realised that his lover was right. There were more important things in life than holding grudges about the past.

>

“Gaius, are you sure you’re feeling up to such a long journey?” Arthur asked, helping his friend down the stairs.

“If I don’t do it now, I’m not going to have the chance again, Arthur,” Gaius replied, stopping to catch his breath at the bottom of the staircase. “I don’t have much time left.”

Morgana and Gwaine helped Gaius out to the running van and tucked him into the bed made in the back while Arthur detoured to the kitchen to grab the thermos of tea they were taking with them. Merlin rushed down the stairs with an extra blanket and almost ran into Arthur at the bottom.

Arthur’s quick reflexes saved them both from toppling to the floor and Merlin laughed breathlessly when Arthur took advantage of their proximity and gave Merlin a brief but thorough kiss. They both sobered when they heard Morgana’s voice calling them from outside.

“Arthur, today’s the deadline for you to turn in your dissertation,” Merlin reminded him.

“I know,” Arthur replied. “This is more important.”

“We could go tomorrow,” Merlin insisted, worry colouring his voice.

Arthur shook his head. “Gaius may not have until tomorrow, Merlin. He wants to see his son, make amends if he can, before he dies. I have to help him.”

Merlin caressed his lover’s cheek gently. “I know why this is important to you, love, but,” he paused, thinking of how to phrase what he wanted to say and then giving up. “Arthur, you could at least turn it in before we leave.”

“I could,” Arthur agreed, “if it was finished. I still need to type up the bibliography and give it a final read through.”

Seeing the look on Merlin’s face, Arthur smiled. “Its okay, Merlin, I’ll just turn it in late. A day or two won’t make _that_ much difference in my marks.”

Gwaine popped his head back through the doorway. “Aren’t you two done molesting each other yet? We’ve got to get on the road now if there’s any hope of getting back before dark.”

Merlin stepped away from Arthur and grabbed a sheet of the newspaper from the table, crumpled it up and threw it at Gwaine. “Shut up, you tosser.”

Climbing into the van next to Gaius, Arthur slid the door closed and tossed the directions to Morgana, who was navigating for Gwaine. “We’re ready, let’s go.”

Four hours later, they were pulling up in front of a large house in Bowdon. Arthur felt Gaius’ hand slip shakily into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Merlin opened the door for Arthur to get out and then crawled back in to help Gaius.

Wondering what to say to the man they were about to meet, Arthur approached the front entrance and hesitated before finally ringing the bell. What would he have wanted to hear from his father before Uther died? Sighing, he realised the answer was ‘nothing’. There is nothing anyone could’ve said for him to forgive Uther for the years of abandonment and neglect.

Arthur jumped slightly when the door opened behind him; he’d been so lost in his own thoughts he’d almost forgotten where he was and what he was doing.

“Can I help you?”

Arthur looked at the man framed in the doorway, straining to see Gaius in his features. Maybe something in the shape of his face, but it was difficult to tell.

“Yes, hello,” Arthur stammered. “Are you Edwin Wilson? Son of Gaius and Alice Wilson?”

The man’s smiling face closed off at the mention of Gaius. “I am Edwin Wilson and my mother’s name is Alice, yes.”

Arthur’s heart was torn between empathy for the man in front of him and the desire to help his dying friend make amends.

“I brought someone to see you,” Arthur said, gesturing towards the van where Gaius sat, supported by Merlin. “He’s your father, Gaius, and he’s come a long way to see you.”

Edwin barely glanced at the older man waiting in the vehicle. “He came a long way for nothing then, I’m not interested in seeing him.”

He stepped back and began to close the door but Arthur blocked it with his arm.

“I understand how you’re feeling right now, I really do,” he murmured. “But that man out there is dying. All he wants to do is see his son. Please, he doesn’t have much time left. Just come out and say hello.”

Edwin paused and looked out at the van. Gaius was leaning against the side of the vehicle, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt and finger combing his hair. Edwin grimaced but stepped forward, closing the door behind him. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and led him to the van.

“So you’re my father?” Edwin asked, looking Gaius up and down.

Gaius smiled hesitantly, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Yes, I am, Edwin,” he replied, offering his hand. He dropped his hand back into his lap when Edwin ignored it.

“You don’t look like much,” Edwin sneered, he glanced at Arthur and then back to Gaius. “He says you’re dying?”

“I…yes,” Gaius nodded, looking down at his hands.

“Good,” Edwin said.

“I wanted,” Gaius began but Edwin cut him off.

“I don’t care what you want, old man,” Edwin stated. “Have you seen enough?”

Eyes brimming with tears, Gaius just nodded.

As Edwin turned to go back inside, the front door opened again and a little girl with strawberry-blonde hair came running out.

“Daddy, Daddy,” she yelled, barrelling into his legs and clinging like a limpet. She peeked around Edwin’s legs, smiling shyly at Gaius. “Daddy, who’s that?”

“He’s nobody, Morgause,” Edwin said, turning away and ignoring the choked sob coming from behind him. “He’s nobody.”

Arthur watched as Gaius’ eyes followed the pair making their way back into the house. The desolation and regret in that gaze held him transfixed. Suddenly, Gaius lunged forward and scooped up a pebble from the drive. He held onto it, rubbing it slowly between his fingers before fumbling with a leather pouch tied on a string around his neck.

Gaius dropped the pebble into the pouch and pulled the drawstring closed. He looked up at Arthur and tried to smile.

“Let’s go home.”

>

The ride home was quiet. Merlin was driving and Gwaine navigating. Morgana was curled up asleep in the back corner of the van and Arthur was keeping a silent eye on Gaius, who was propped up in his makeshift bed, staring out at the passing scenery.

Noticing that Gaius continued to fiddle with the leather pouch at his neck, Arthur resolved to ask him about it.

“Gaius, what’s in that pouch?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Memories,” Gaius murmured. He took hold of the pouch and upended the contents into the palm of his hand.

Arthur stared at the collection of oddly shaped, colourful stones in the weathered hand and looked up enquiringly.

“Each of these stones represents a memory,” Gaius said, picking up a pure white one. “For instance, this one is a woman. The woman. I picked this stone up on the path to the chapel.” He smiled softly to himself. “It matched her dress.”

Picking up another stone, this one a smooth, soft grey, he held it up. “This represents the best night of sleep I’ve ever had. All I have to do to revisit my memories is to pick up the stone and I’m right there, reliving the experience.”

Gaius fingered the pebble he’d picked up from Edwin’s drive and his face clouded over. Reverently placing the stones back in the pouch, he cinched it closed and tucked it back inside his shirt.

Not sure what to say, Arthur tried anyway. “I am so sorry, Gaius. I know this isn’t how you wanted today to go.”

“No, it isn’t how I wanted it to go but it is what I was expecting to happen,” Gaius admitted. “Can you honestly say that you would’ve reacted any differently if you had been in Edwin’s position and it had been your father?”

Arthur remained quiet knowing that he would’ve done exactly what Edwin had done earlier. He looked into Gaius’ knowing eyes and shook his head ever so slightly.

With a small grunt of acknowledgement, Gaius settled back into the nest of blankets and pillows they had made for him and turned to watch the scenery pass outside the window.

>

By the time they arrived back in Cardiff, Gaius’ breathing was laboured and his skin clammy to the touch. The four friends carried him inside and settled him in his attic room bed.

When Arthur moved to get Gaius a glass of water, the old man clutched at him weakly.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me alone, please. I don’t want to die alone.”

Ignoring the muffled sob from Morgana and the stinging in his own eyes, Arthur smiled down at him.

“We won’t go anywhere, Gaius,” he promised. “We’ll be right here with you.”

Merlin sat on the other side of the bed and picked up Gaius’ hand while Gwaine and Morgana settled at the foot. Gaius reached toward the book lying on the table next to the bed. Understanding what he wanted, Arthur picked up the book, opened it to where it was bookmarked and began to read.

 _”Shut not your doors to me proud libraries,  
For that which was lacking on all your well-fill'd shelves, yet  
needed most, I bring…”_ (Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass)

 

Hours passed and Merlin took over reading when Arthur’s voice gave out.

 _”Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,  
Healthy, free, the world before me,  
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose…”_ (Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass)

Arthur looked up when Merlin paused in his reading. Morgana was crying silently, her head pillowed on Gwaine’s shoulder. His eyes were pulled to the slight figure lying still on the bed, absently noting that the comforter was no longer moving over the chest. He leant forward, resting his ear over Gaius’ heart, listening in vain for a beat.

“He’s gone, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, voice choked with tears.

Reaching out, Arthur grasped Merlin’s hand tightly in his. “I know he is, Merlin. I know.”

>

Two days later Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine and Morgana were gathered around Gaius’ gravesite dressed in their most sober clothes. Arthur cleared his throat and took a wrinkled piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Gaius wrote his own obituary and he asked me to read it,” Arthur began, clearing his throat again before continuing. “Gaius R Wilson snuffed it on Tuesday.”

They all chuckled at the irreverent beginning.

“He saw the world out of the porthole of a leaky freighter, was a collector of memories, and interrupted a lecture at Albion University. In 50 years on earth he did only one thing he regretted. He is survived by his family: Morgana Le Fey, who never forgets that details are important; Gwaine Knight, who knows how to use words; Merlin Emrys, who is strong and who also knows how to love; and by Arthur Pendragon, who will graduate life with honour and without regret.”

The fog of numbness that Arthur had been walking through for the past two days lifted and he collapsed sobbing into Merlin’s arms.

>

 **Epilogue**

 

Arthur Pendragon sat in the sea of black-gowned graduates surrounded by his friends. Merlin’s warmth was pressed against his right side. Gwaine’s unbound energy was on his left. Morgana and Leon were behind him. Somewhere in the crowd of spectators were their parents and families, even Lance and Gwen had shown up for this auspicious occasion.

He could see the crimson and gold cords hanging around Merlin’s neck indicating a First in History of Art. Behind him, Morgana was similarly adorned for her degree in Philosophy.

Looking down at his own unembellished robes, Arthur didn’t feel the envy or disappointment that he thought he would. Instead, he was proud. Turning in his dissertation late had kept him from graduating with honours but the lessons he had learnt the last few months were much more important than marks in school.

 _“Arthur Aurelius Pendragon. History of Politics.”_

Arthur stood and moved forward confidently to accept his degree. He couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic cheering coming from his friends. It sounded like Merlin and Gwaine were having a contest to see who could be the loudest. Diploma collected, Arthur returned to his seat and settled back to listen to the rest of the ceremony.

Later, after the graduation ceremony was over, Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, Morgana and Leon were all walking back to the house to change out of their robes and go party the night away. Spying something red lying on the pavement, Arthur bent down and picked up the small stone, staring at it for a moment before tucking it safely into his trousers pocket.

Feeling Merlin’s hand wrap gently around his own Arthur looked up into the understanding gaze of his boyfriend’s blue eyes. Smiling softly, he squeezed Merlin’s hand to let him know that he was okay.

Watching Merlin’s face light up with his infectiously happy grin, Arthur couldn’t help but cover those smiling lips with his own. Losing himself in the intoxicating pleasure of Merlin’s kiss, he knew that Gaius had been right – it truly was better to graduate life with honours.

~fin~


End file.
